


How to Break a Curse

by Symbio



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Adam is a witch, Adashi Gift Exchange 2019, Alternate Universe - Magic, First Kiss, First Meetings, M/M, Shiro believes in fairy tales, Shiro is Cursed, True Love's Kiss, generous handwaving on the function of magic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-26
Updated: 2020-01-26
Packaged: 2021-02-27 06:55:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22422940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Symbio/pseuds/Symbio
Summary: Everyone in his village knows not to go into the woods: it's not safe, there are monsters, people have been known to disappear. But Shiro has no choice, he's cursed, and he's already tried every remedy he could think of. His last hope? Rumors of the benevolent witch in the woods. But when he gets there, she isn't there; he finds himself faced with a beautiful man instead.There's only one thing he knows: there's no way he'll get out of this with both his soul and heart intact.
Relationships: Adam/Shiro (Voltron)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 42





	How to Break a Curse

**Author's Note:**

> This was written as part of the 2019 Adashi gift exchange. I'm a bit late, but hopefully the length makes up for that. Enjoy!

Every old story said there was a monster in the woods. Some said it was a witch who boiled people whole. Others said it was a hulking beast whose claws could shred through metal like it was paper. And others yet said that it was a sinister fae who waited to trick unknowing travelers into parting with their souls forever. Regardless of what they said, every story had one thing in common: never pass through the woods, especially not at night, especially not alone. Because after all, every story is built on a grain of truth.

Now, Takashi Shirogane was an intelligent man with a good head on his shoulders. He had grown up with these stories and held enough superstitions to count him among the superstitious. But like every other person who had found themselves on this path before, he was also one more thing. Desperate. The kind of desperate that leaves one with very few choices.

Shiro was desperately unlucky, and not by any fault of his own. His parents often said he was born under an unlucky star, but it certainly didn't help that they had promised their first born child in a deal once and then didn't make good on it. Witches rarely take well to being refused what is theirs.

It was a complicated situation. He was standing under the weight of generations of magical debt. His parents had traded their first born (him) to keep their farm healthy. His grandparents had made a similar deal. As had his great-grandparents and his great-great-grandparents. That's what happens when a stubborn family builds a farm on infertile land.

The debt settled on him in the form of a curse. His body could not hold magic. On the surface it didn't seem to be a harsh punishment, but magic went far beyond the ability to control forces of the world; life itself was a form of magic. His body could not hold magic; thus, his body could not hold life. It had started slowly: skipped heartbeats and exhaustion after days that didn't merit it. It got worse with time: numbness in his limbs and fatigue that stretched for days at a time. He had spent many a bedridden day reminding himself how to breathe. The witch was his only hope. He would find her and strike a deal of his own.

He set out after sunset, slipping away once his family and the village had retired for the night. They would stop him if they caught him. He took nothing with him, not even a lantern.

The path was kind to him; he made safe passage through the woods, the light from the full moon filtering through the leaves overhead to guide him. There were no beasts with claws, no faeries, not even a common panther. There was only one problem: there wasn't a witch either.

He'd heard whispered stories of her, some swore she was a faerie, others an elf. She was tall and beautiful with a head of white hair the color of moonlight. She was the benevolent witch, the one the hopeful would go to. (And he was hopeful.) But she wasn't there.

Instead, he found himself faced with a man who had to be around his age. He was tall with dark hair, dark eyes, and dark skin. He practically gleamed in the moonlight. And he was standing just outside the door of the witch's cottage.

Now this was something Shiro hadn't signed up for. A beautiful woman was one thing, but a beautiful man? There was no way he'd be getting out of this with his soul _and_ heart intact.

He swallowed down the hammering of his heart and stepped forward. "Hello, I'm Tak-"

"Takashi," the man cut him off with a smile. "I know why you're here."

"How...who are you?" Shiro faltered in his steps. "Where is she?"

"She's away on business, no I don't know when she'll be back. I'm an apprentice of sorts, you can call me Adam," the man, Adam, opened the door behind him and golden light poured onto the pathway. "Come inside, we have much to discuss."

Shiro was hesitant, after all this wasn't who he had come to see, but the desperation won out in the end. "This is a nice place," he made small talk as he entered into the homely cottage. "Better than I would expect for..."

"A witch?" Adam finished with a chuckle. "What were you expecting, gingerbread? The bones of children?" In the light of the fire place his brown eyes showed the faintest hint of honey gold.

"I was expecting it to be run down," Shiro went with the honest answer here. "This is nicer than my home and my family has always been vain about its appearance. I didn't expect something this nice to be hidden away in the woods."

"Appearances aren't everything," Adam shrugged. "Take a seat and we'll get started. I prefer to discuss things over a hot beverage, are you a fan of tea perchance?" Something had shifted in his demeanor; they may not have started their discussion yet, but whatever game they would be playing had begun.

"Only herbal, the other stuff gives me a headache." He sat at one of the four mismatched chairs around a circular table. The back right leg of the chair was shorter than the rest, causing it to wobble under his weight.

Adam knocked around in the kitchen for a moment before filling a battered copper tea kettle with water and placing it on a stovetop. Shiro didn't see him light a fire, but he had a strong suspicion that magic was involved. "Peppermint it is then," Adam looked to him with that same smile from outside. "You won't want anything else after trying this, the leaves come straight from her garden."

"Thank you," Shiro returned the smile to the best of his ability; he knew better than to refuse hospitality or to be less than grateful when accepting it.

A charged silence settled in the cottage for the remaining minutes it took before the tea kettle whistled and Adam was at the table with two steaming mugs. "Tell me this isn't life changing." Adam plunked the nicer mug in front of Shiro and watched him with a hopeful glint in his eyes.

Shiro had to look away and hope that the flush of his cheeks could be explained away by the hot beverage. "Y-Yeah, it's great," he stammered.

"You haven't tried it yet," Adam laughed. The sound was music.

"Oh. Right." The blush had reached the tips of his ears. Never in his life had he been so glad to have a mug to hide behind; he wrapped both hands around it and brought it to his mouth to sip, he tried not to imagine Adam drinking from the same mug. The tea was wonderful.

An awkward silence fell between the two of them. This wasn't what he had expected; he was supposed to meet the witch and make a deal signing away something he couldn't afford to give up in exchange for...well, he wasn't sure. It was life that he needed, a certain brand of magic that he hadn't known in over a decade.

"Anybody home?" Adam's voice pulled him back from the brink of his mind wandering somewhere he couldn't follow.

"I'm sorry," Shiro coughed and set the empty mug on the table—he didn't remember finishing it. "I'm here. The tea was good, thank you." He folded his hands on his lap and looked to Adam attentively.

"You're cursed, I can feel it on you," Adam stated. "You were desperate enough to come looking for her help, but will you settle for mine? I'm not her, I can't offer you the deals she would offer."

"You should know I'm desperate enough to take any help," he spoke with great care in each word. "I almost...almost decided on the other witch."

Adam's eyes narrowed at the mention of the other witch in the woods. The light above them flickered wildly for a moment before settling. "You made the right choice coming here," his voice was strained. "She might give you life, but she would take your humanity in doing so."

"If I have to choose between the two, I'd rather die a man than live a monster."

That had been the right thing to say; Adam's demeanor shifted and a smile softened his features. "You're a good man, Takashi. I'll help you."

The offer came faster than expected. Shiro had spent the last few weeks conjuring up every scenario he could imagine—none of them had ended in his favor so quickly. "How much will it cost?"

An adorable furrow appeared in Adam's brow as he did the math in his head. "Hmm," he hummed, the sound morphing into a tune rather than a monotonous drone. "How about..." the grin on his face suggested he was attempting a joke, "your firstborn child."

Shiro was not among the crowd who found that particularly funny. "What will it actually cost?" He didn't have time to sit around and listen to jokes, if Adam couldn't help him, then he would go elsewhere.

Adam's expression fell flat. "Sorry," he apologized. "I'm not yet accustomed to making these deals."

"That's all well and fine, but I'm not supposed to be in this forest. I must return to the village before daylight if I wish to avoid trouble." Shiro tapped his fingers on the wall of the empty mug. "I need to know the price so I know if I can afford it."

Adam bit his lip and looked out the cottage windows into the moonlit night. "I...I have been doing some research pertaining to curses. It helps to have something from a curse victim as I do that research. You can pay me with a pint of blood or a lock of hair if you prefer something less invasive."

Shiro blanched at the thought of his blood being drawn. "The hair," he almost bit his tongue in the rush to get the words out. "You can have some hair."

"Strong preference," Adam chuckled. "Let me tidy up and then we'll get on with it." He stood and took both of their mugs into the kitchen.

Shiro watched him move around the small space; he fit the scene as if he had been painted into it. "Is there anything I need to do to get ready for this?" He asked. "What will you be doing anyway?"

"In the simplest terms possible, I'm making a pocket of magic and putting it into you," Adam attempted an explanation.

"Wait." Shiro stood up. "I never told you what my curse was, how did you know that was the problem?"

"Call it foresight if you want," Adam shrugged. "I'm not...think of me as the opposite of you. You were born with no magic inside of you, I was born with too much. I can communicate with the magic of the world and ask it to do what I want. I can only ask though, I can't force it."

"That doesn't explain how you knew," Shiro was getting angry. He resented himself for it—this was the only person who could help him after all—but he felt he deserved a clear answer.

"Takashi, sit down please," Adam turned toward him with a sigh. "I'll answer your questions, but I need you to calm down. The magic won't take if you aren't calm."

Shiro wanted to be angry at him, he wanted to yell and shout until he felt better, but he knew that Adam had done nothing to deserve that. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't be upset with you." _One, two, three_. He took a deep breath and let the rising anger dissipate away. "I would appreciate an explanation."

"I recommend you take a seat, I'll talk as I work." Adam lit a few candles by pinching their wicks. The air took on a heaviness as he maneuvered around the room. Shiro did as he said and settled back into his chair.

"I've been alone here for three months now," Adam started. "I get lonely so sometimes I head to the village to be around other people, that's how I knew your name. They talk about you, you know." He pulled some sort of root from a cabinet and beginning dicing it. "Not quite as impressive as magic now is it?"

"Most people call me Shiro," he told him.

"I like Takashi better," he shrugged. "As for the curse, I can sense it on you. You're heavy in a way living things shouldn't be; that's a telltale sign of a curse. Magic calls to other magic, it's a game of magnets and I'm stronger than most. I can't feel even the slightest pull from you which means you have none. Living things aren't meant to exist without magic, hence why you're here."

"You're pretty good," Shiro nodded in appreciation. "You could be a detective with those skills."

"Hardly," Adam laughed and whatever anger Shiro still felt faded completely. "It's a limited skill set, I think you'll find I'm much better at this," he gestured to the organized array in front of him. Shiro wasn't close enough to tell what all was set out, but he could see various dried herbs, candles, fruits, and something that looked like bottled light.

"What is all that?" Shiro asked. "Can you explain how this works?"

"I'd bore you to death if I explained every component," Adam said. "But I can explain it. Every witch has a certain brand of magic that they're best at, mine is nature. Seasons if you want to get specific. Each season has certain magic threads that weave it together, what I'm doing here is using components that have those same threads and asking the world for Spring. If it grants my request, then I'll have created a small bubble of magic that I can give to you. Does that make sense?"

"You lost me about five sentences ago," Shiro shook his head. It was a lot of information to hear at once and the content was unfamiliar. Half of what Adam said went straight over his head and the other half contradicted things he'd spent his life believing. "I don't think your explanations will help me understand this, but I trust you. Do what you have to do." There wasn't enough time for him to sit listening to explanations, he had work early in the morning and would prefer to do it on at least three hours of sleep.

"That does make my job easier." Adam's hands moved expertly around his work station though his gaze was locked on Shiro's. "I only need a couple more minutes to finish this, then I'll take that lock of hair, then I can administer this and send you on your way."

"That sounds good to me." It didn't sound good at all. He hated that he was stumbling into this blindly, he hated not having a choice.

There was silence again as Adam finished up his work. Shiro still had no idea even what he was using, but asking would only take more time and he doubted he would understand half of it anyway. The minutes stretched far longer than the should have until, finally, Adam set his tools down and brought over a pair of scissors to trim a lock of hair from Shiro's head.

"I'll have to ask you to close your eyes when I administer it," Adam told him as he carefully clipped away some hair and caught it in an empty mortar. "It works better that way."

"Why...wait, no, it doesn't matter," Shiro shook his head. "Tell me when."

"You can close your eyes now, you'll know once the magic takes," Adam told him.

Shiro nodded and let his eyes drift shut. He felt a bit silly sitting at the table with his eyes closed as Adam moved around him, but he wasn't about to argue on something he didn't understand.

Adam's footsteps moved from one end of the kitchen to the other and around the table in a repeated pattern. He was whispering under his breath in a language didn't recognize. Every so often he'd see a flash of light through his eyelids and he had to tamp down his curiosity about what it was.

After what felt like forever, but was actually just shy of two minutes, he felt a light breeze rustle his short hair and the room began to smell like flowers. Moments later, a pleasant warmth bloomed in his chest—it was a hopeful sensation which was surprising, he'd always thought of magic as harsh.

He waited another minute before opening his eyes to see Adam sitting across from him at the table again with a small smile gracing his face. Shiro's heart definitely did not skip a beat at that sight.

"How does it feel?" Adam asked.

"Light," Shiro told him. "It's very strange. Are you sure this will work?"

"Of course I'm not, magic is finicky," Adam admitted. "All we can do is trust it, though that asks a lot more of you than it does me."

Shiro nodded. Trust the magic? He could do that, it wouldn't be the strangest thing he'd ever trusted before. "How long will this last?"

"If you're very lucky, several years," Adam began to fidget with a gold coin that had been on the table. "Most likely scenario, three months. It's seasonal magic, it ebbs and flows with the seasons. You'll know when it starts fading, make a visit as close to a solstice or equinox as possible please."

At that, Shiro could tell that his time in the cottage had come to an end. There would be no more questions, no more conversation, and no more staring at the pretty man.

"Thank you," Shiro stood and offered his hand for a handshake.

Adam smiled awkwardly and accepted the handshake. "I will see you again Takashi."

Shiro stared at him for one more moment before stepping out of the cottage and back into the woods. The return trip was just as peaceful as the trip there had been.

Life returned to a semblance of normalcy after that. Had he been anyone else, it would have been easy to tuck the night in the witch's cottage into the back of his mind and only visit the memory when necessary, but he wasn't anyone else. An afterimage of Adam's smile has seared its way into Shiro's memory.

Shiro looked for him when he was in town; every so often he caught a glimpse of a tall, slender figure with beautiful brown skin, but he was never close enough to tell if it was Adam.

That didn't matter anymore once it was time to plant for the season. It was the first time in years he'd been well enough to help with the process without requiring extensive breaks. He had almost forgotten how grueling the work could be. This was exactly why he didn't want to be a farmer.

Spring came and went and along with it went the faint buzzing of magic in his veins. The well dried up, and he picked another night (two days after the solstice) to journey into the woods.

The trip was much like the first, he arrived safely and was given a mug of tea to start their discussion. Their bargain turned toward something that may have been flirting and then turned again to business subtleties that Shiro didn't quite understand. This time he did trade away a pint of blood; he'd had to squeeze his eyes shut for the whole removal process, and his head was spinning for an hour afterward. But he got what he came for: another blessing of magic that tickled his veins like the beginning flames of a fire. It wasn't harsh, but it was nowhere near as light as Spring had been.

And then Summer was gone in the blink of an eye. He'd tended the animals and travelled to visit family a few villages away. He caught glimpses of the man he swore was Adam, but just like before, he never approached him to confirm his identity. There was a small, romantic part of him that believed his and Adam's paths would cross as often as they were meant to. If they were meant to run into each other in the marketplace they would.

The first crisp breeze of Autumn carried away the remnants of the Summer spell. This time he'd gotten a letter weeks in advance of his visit requesting he bring a barrel of apple cider as his payment. That had been difficult to hide from his family, but if Adam wanted cider, Adam got cider. The cider tasted better from one of Adam's chipped mugs than it did from any other vessel.

Autumn was a busy season and the magic reflected that almost as much as the harvest did. There was a constant energy running in his veins, it was frantic at times, especially toward the end of the season as winter's cold clutch grew nearer. It was a good season for friends and family though; Shiro went to the village harvest festival and he stayed all night long, dancing well into the morning with all the others his age.

When he came on the Winter solstice, Adam opened the door with a sad smile as if he'd expected him that night.

"I can't break your curse," Adam looked him in the eye. "I need you to know that."

"I-I know," Shiro sighed. "I hoped..." _that you could. That anybody could_.

"I'm sorry." Shiro had no doubt that Adam was anything less than genuine.

"It's not your fault." Shiro directed his gaze at the ground below him. "Thank you for everything you have done. These last nine months have been the best I've had since childhood."

"I wish there was more I could give you." Adam rested a hand on Shiro's shoulder. "I have one season left and then that's it, I won't be able to help you again."

"How much will it cost?" The question had grown familiar on his tongue.

"Not much, only your firstborn," Adam teased.

Shiro rolled his eyes. "That wasn't funny the first time."

"No?" Adam laughed.

"No."

"Alright," Adam's voice grew serious. "This last one...it'll take a lot from you. Are you sure you want it?"

If Shiro were anyone else, he would have had the luxury of being able to stop and think about it, to really weigh the options. But he wasn't. "You know my answer."

"I have to hear you say it." Adam stepped back and moved to his supply bench.

"Yes..." Shiro sighed and raked a hand through his hair. If Adam could give him only three more months, then that might be it for him; he wasn't ready for that.

"I won't charge you anything more than what the giving will cost." Adam plucked up various dried herbs and placed them into a mortar. "This isn't a gift, it will likely hurt you more than it will help you."

"I understand, it's better than the alternative." Shiro distracted himself from thoughts of that alternative by focusing on Adam's hands as he prepared everything. He didn't know enough to recognize many of the ingredients that went into the mortar, but that knowledge wasn't necessary to appreciate the careful precision with which Adam worked.

A comfortable silence stretched between them. Shiro could hear his heart, a nervous fluttery thing that jumped and skipped, threatening to leap out of his body. He knew it had nothing to do with nerves about what Adam was making and everything to do with the person making it. _No. Not now_. He took a deep breath and forced his heart to keep its desires to itself.

"It's ready," Adam broke the silence several minutes later. "I need you to relax as much as you can. I might hurt you if you don't."

"Where do you want me for this?" Shiro asked.

"The couch would work wonderfully," Adam gestured for him to move to the tiny living room that bordered the kitchen.

Shiro hadn't been past the kitchen any of his previous visits. Crossing the threshold into a more personal space felt like a violation of privacy. The room was tidy in the same messy way as the setup Adam had when he worked; there was a definite system by which things were organized, but it was unclear to anyone but the person who made it. He took a seat on the couch and swallowed thickly, "What now?"

"I suggest you lay down."

"This isn't going to be pleasant, is it?" Shiro pulled his legs onto the couch and leaned against the armrest. "Actually, no, don't answer that, I don't want to hear confirmation."

"Then you already know the answer," Adam offered an apologetic smile. "Winter is more temperamental than the other seasons, I also have the least practice working with it. You're going to be cold when I give this to you, you might even think that you'll freeze to death, but you won't."

"What part of 'don't answer' did you not understand?" Shiro frowned at him though there was no malice behind it. "Do I get a blanket?"

"Oh, of course, be right back." Adam disappeared into the narrow hallway leading off the living room. When he reappeared, his arms were hugging an old quilt to his chest. "Here you go, finest blanket this side of the tree line," he grinned as he draped it over Shiro's lap.

Shiro immediately turned dark red. The quilt smelled just like him. Adam had brought him the blanket off his own bed. "Th-Thank you."

"You're welcome," Adam's hand drifted up Shiro's arm and stopped to squeeze his shoulder before he stepped back. "Close your eyes and relax, I want to get this over with so I can get a warm drink in you and send you home before it gets any later."

Shiro did as he was told; he closed his eyes and took deep, soothing breaths until his mind had tuned out the world around him. He kept his focus directed inward, ignoring the sound of Adam working around him. It was impossible to ignore once the magic took root though. Cold didn't begin to describe it; it would have been merciful to plunge him into an icy lake.

His teeth chattered, his blood turned to ice in his veins.

When he was a kid, his parents had taken him to see a garden of ice sculptures. He had watched in awe as an artist chipped away at a block of ice to reveal a figure encased within it. At the time, he'd thought it was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen; now, he found he liked ice sculptures a lot less when he was the sculpture.

Underneath the cold, on the peripheral of everything, he could feel something ancient and powerful. It was unlike anything he'd ever felt before, but he couldn't focus on it for more than half a second without the cold tearing his mind elsewhere.

And then just as suddenly as it hit, the cold was gone.

"Takashi, Takashi are you okay?" Adam was speaking softly, his voice dripping with concern. A cloak had been wrapped around his shoulders and a hot water bottle was resting on his chest.

Shiro blinked slowly as if he were clearing sleep from his eyes. "That was horrible," he mumbled through still chattering teeth. "Thought you'd turned me to ice."

"I am nowhere near strong enough to turn you to ice," Adam smiled up at him from where he was crouched next to the couch. "Did give you an early white streak though, sorry about that." He reached up and lifted a small lock of hair off of Shiro's forehead; it was just long enough that he could see that it had, in fact, turned white.

"What will I do without my stunning good looks?" Shiro joked because he didn't know what else to say.

"You're still pretty," Adam assured him. "Don't you fret."

Shiro turned dark red and for once he was grateful for the warmth it brought to his cheeks. "Thank you," he didn't bother hiding his smile.

"You can stay as long as you need to," Adam stood up from his crouch. "This should help you warm up," he walked into the kitchen and came back with an already brewed mug of tea. It was something light and herbal, Shiro didn't recognize it from scent alone.

His hands shook as he wrapped them around the mug. "Thank you," he repeated. "You're very hospitable for someone who isn't making any money off of this."

"There are things worth more than money." Adam's soft sigh suggested there was more to than statement, but he didn't add on to it. "Let me know once you're warmed up."

Shiro nodded and brought the mug of tea to his lips. A warm tingle spread through his body as he sipped at it; whatever it was, it had some enchantment on it. He almost wanted to hand it back to Adam, to insist he couldn't accept more magic without paying, but the cold was far louder than his conscience.

"I'm warm," Shiro's gaze found Adam ten minutes later once he'd finished the tea. "I can feel my fingers and my toes again, so I think I'm good."

"You should leave then," Adam told him. "The night will only get colder as it progresses, I don't want you out in that any later than necessary."

Shiro stood up and folded the quilt neatly. Another bout of shivering came over him at the removal of the insulating layer. "Where would you like me to put your cloak?" He held the garment out toward Adam.

Adam glanced between the cloak and Shiro and was silent for a moment. "You should keep it," he smiled softly. "It'll help keep you warm and it looks better on you than on me anyway."

Shiro flushed again as he pulled the cloak back on over his own coat. It smelled of the same intoxicating mix of herbs that the kitchen smelled of. "You keep indebting me to you, I promise I'll make good on it someday."

"Go home and get warm and consider it paid," Adam shooed him to the door. Shiro half expected him to grab ahold of a broom to push him out with.

He did as Adam said and let himself out into the chilly night air. It was quiet in the way Winter always was, a sleepy kind of quiet that hinted at something else out there. If he strained his ears he swore he could hear whispers carried on the wind.

He kept Adam's cloak on when he laid himself bed that night. He began to wear it instead of his own coat; it kept him far warmer, and even after weeks of being out of Adam's cottage, he swore it still smelled of the man.

Winter was the strangest of the four seasons; it was restful and yet it spoke of secret, slumbering beasts that hid from the world. And the cold never went away. Each day Shiro awoke to find that the white had overtaken another small lock of hair; it showed no sign of stopping until his entire forelock had turned white.

It was common knowledge in the village that Shiro had gone to the witch for help. He hadn't spoken a word of it, but the villagers were observant (nosy) and pieced together the reason for the newfound pep in his step. He was given a wider berth now when he went to run errands. His favorite of the three bakers in town would no longer serve him; she glared at him whenever he passed her store front and made a sign to ward off the devil when he came close. He had to cut his losses there and get his bread from his second favorite bakery.

The three months of Winter trudged at a snail's pace, the short days and long nights stretching time as long as it could go. When the snowdrops finally begin to press their way into the sun, he expected to feel the buzz of magic fade away, but it stayed. Maybe this spell had been stronger, maybe it knew there was nothing left, or maybe the universe was taking pity on him. Regardless of the reason, he was given an extended lease with this particular brand of magic.

Even when Spring came and the sun warmed the fields, the cold grasp of Winter kept its icy fingers dug deep into him.

And then there was Adam. He showed up often enough that it wasn't a coincidence. There was the time at the bakery—the second best one—where he'd been leaving just as Shiro walked in, their eyes had met briefly and their shoulders brushed. Then there was the time when the farms were hit with a species of caterpillar that could wipe out entire fields in only a few days. Adam was right there with the rest of the village as they banded together to remove the pests. He and Shiro worked side by side under the burning sun until the last offending creature had been removed.

Shiro was grateful for the cold that day.

When the summer meteor shower came, Adam was there, his blanket spread out a few feet from Shiro's. And when the harvest festival came in Autumn, Adam didn't leave Shiro's side long enough for him to find another dance partner.

They spoke for hours some days, sharing the mundane details of their lives. Shiro told Adam about the cat he'd taken in as a kitten; Adam told him about the first tomato plant he'd successfully grown.

Adam never quite looked like himself. Sometimes it was eyes an unsettling shade of green, other times it was hair that sat too straight. No matter the disguise, Shiro saw straight through it.

It had been a year since his last visit to the cottage when Shiro made up his mind. He was going to return, but this time it wasn't to ask for a favor or to buy anything. This time his heart was set on one thing, and one thing only: Adam.

He made the trip in the early afternoon to ensure he would arrive with daylight left. He didn't care that the villagers stared when they saw him enter the woods; let them gossip all they wanted.

Snow was falling as he wove his way deeper into the woods. He stumbled a few times when the snow obscured the path ahead of him, but he didn't let that distract him from his end goal. Adam, it was all about Adam.

The lights were off inside the cottage when he arrived. For a moment, he thought Adam wasn't there and his heart dropped, but then he heard the sound of whistling in the back. He'd forgotten about the garden. He walked around the cottage to the place he'd never been before. He cleared his throat once he saw Adam.

The snow came down all around them, blanketing the ground and muffling the rest of the world. It was Shiro and Adam in the clearing behind the cottage, no one else.

"Takashi...what are you doing here? What do you need?" Adam looked up from the plant he was tending to—something hardy enough to survive the cold.

The snow crunched underfoot as Shiro took a step toward him. "You know what I need, what I've always needed."

"I've gifted you all four seasons, I have nothing more to give." Adam's gaze swept over him, settling briefly upon the white swatch of hair that was falling into his eyes.

"That's not what I want, I'm tired of buying my life one season at a time." Shiro took another step forward. "There are better things for me to pursue. If my time is limited, I'd be a fool to spend it chasing anything I don't truly want."

The trowel fell from Adam's hand. "And what is it that you truly want?" He asked in a hushed whisper.

In a moment of boldness, Shiro's mouth opened and a single syllable fell from his lips. "You."

Even in the dim light he could see the furious shade of red that decorated Adam's cheeks. "That's-" he choked on the word and fumbled to pick his trowel back up as a distraction. He was the only person Shiro had ever met who was as much of a disaster as he was. "But you barely know me."

"That's hardly true," Shiro shook his head. "It's been two years since we first met."

"And it's been a year since we've spoken," Adam countered.

"False. I've seen you nearly every month, we danced at the harvest festival. Don't pretend I didn't know it was you." Shiro took another step forward and offered his hand.

Adam's fingers uncurled from the handle of the trowel and it fell to the ground once again. He swallowed thickly as he reached up—the moment stretched for ages before his hand closed around Shiro's. "I thought I had done a better job disguising myself."

Adam's hand was warm and rough; Shiro let himself bask in that for several moments before helping him to his feet. He did not let go of his hand. "I would recognize you anywhere."

Adam ducked his head and smiled his sheepish little smile that showed off his single dimple. "You are quite the perceptive one, that's one of the things I like about you."

"Ooh, you like me," Shiro singsonged.

"Hush," Adam bumped his shoulder against Shiro's. Even through layers of clothing he could feel his warmth. "I never said that."

Neither of them made any move to separate. They were still holding hands.

Shiro looked up to see that the slush gray sky was rapidly darkening. "I think a bigger storm is brewing."

Adam swore in a language Shiro didn't recognize. "We need to get inside, that isn't natural."

"You don't have to tell me twice." Shiro pulled Adam behind him as he beelined for the cottage door. The sky continued to blacken as the door shut behind them.

"A storm that big and that fast..." Adam shuddered at whatever thought he left unspoken. "You'll have to stick around until it passes."

"You say that like it's a bad thing," Shiro smiled at him. Even if the situation wasn't ideal, it at least meant he got to spend more time with Adam.

"That's a storm elemental, they're rare and often harmless, but the vengeful ones can wreak havoc that lasts weeks," Adam informed him. "You might be stuck here for a few hours, or you'll be here much longer."

"I can stay a few hours," he would stay forever if Adam asked. Of course he'd have to make arrangements back home, but he would be willing.

"I knew you would say that," Adam smiled. "I wasn't expecting another mouth to feed, you'll have to help me cook."

"I'm awful in the kitchen," Shiro blanched a little at being told that. It wasn't for lack of trying; he'd ruined many otherwise good meals by putting his hands on the food. "You should have me do anything other than that, I can be helpful I swear."

"Hmm, you can do the washing up then, deal?" Adam squeezed his hand. (They were still holding hands!)

"Deal," Shiro squeezed back.

"I should start getting dinner ready," Adam began to loosen his grip. "It's cold enough that a nice stew sounds wonderful."

"It is cold," Shiro nodded in agreement and reluctantly let go of Adam's hand so he could start cooking. Their fingers stayed tangled for a few lingering moments before the hold broke completely.

Adam moved to the kitchen with no further comment and pulled ingredients seemingly from nowhere. Shiro would never get used to all the magic that man used. "Go ahead and sit down, Takashi," Adam waves him toward the table. "This won't take too long to prepare."

Shiro used the opportunity to look at Adam, to really look at him—he was tall, taller than Shiro by an inch or two, and his curly hair had grown to cover the tips of his ears. He was every bit as beautiful as the night he first saw him and even more so. Shiro was in love with him; he didn't know how it had happened or when, but it was irrefutable. Somewhere between the meeting and the dancing and the stargazing and everything Adam had done to help him, he'd fallen in love. He froze at that realization, his eyes locked on the curve of Adam's neck.

_Huh? That's new_. Shiro hoped his thoughts weren't as loud as the hammering of his heart. He had never been in love before, there was never time for it.

"I can hear you thinking from here," Adam looked over his shoulder with a smirk. Shiro's internal panic must have shown on his face because Adam was quick to raise his hands and clarify. "I can't actually hear your thoughts, that was an expression Takashi."

Shiro sighed in relief. He'd only just realize he loved Adam, he needed more time with that knowledge before sharing it. "You scared me," he exhaled shakily. "I don't want anyone poking around in my head."

"Mind reading is an uncommon talent," Adam informed him. "I could accomplish it through potions or spells, but I'm content living with only my thoughts."

"Most people can't keep anything to themselves anyway," Shiro pointed out. Who needed mind reading when the town gossip was more than ready to share secrets?

"Are you 'most people?'"

"I'm not."

"Didn't think so," Adam sighed. "Pity, I would love to know what's going on in that head of yours."

"Nothing important," Shiro lied. How was he supposed to answer that? Was Adam flirting? Hadn't they been flirting since they met? Why wasn't he telling him anyway, he'd already told him he wanted him?!

"Liar!" Adam laughed. "You wouldn't be keeping it a secret if it wasn't important. I know you too well to believe that."

Shiro chuckled and looked down at the tea stains on the table. "That you do. Tell me what you're thinking about and maybe I'll tell you mine."

"Hmm," Adam hummed as he chopped up some root vegetable. "Will you promise me, Takashi?"

Even after all the time, the sound of his given name on Adam's lips brought warmth to his cheeks. "I could be convinced."

Adam nodded as if that answer sufficed. "I'm thinking..." he paused to pull an ingredient from the top of the cupboards, "that it wouldn't be terrible if that storm didn't let up until tomorrow." There was definite flirting in his tone.

"And why's that?" Shiro's voice dropped into a slightly lower register.

"Well you see," he looked back with a smirk, "I only have one bed and I only have one warm blanket. And it _is_ rather cold outside."

Oh. _Oh_. That wasn't what Shiro had expected him to say. "Well, we certainly don't want anyone getting cold tonight," his voice shook more than he would have liked.

"Glad we're on the same page," Adam hummed. "It's your turn, Takashi."

"I was thinking that...well, I was thinking about you," Shiro couldn't lie to him (he wouldn't). "About how much I care about you."

Adam was quiet for one, two, three moments too long. And then he spoke. "Save that thought for three more minutes, I want to hear it again when my hands are free." He began to move much quicker around the kitchen.

Shiro was content to watch silently as Adam hastily diced the rest of the ingredients and tossed everything into a stewpot that was already simmering over the fire. He'd watched those same hands carefully prepare spell components, to see them so sloppy was a shock.

"I'm done," Adam said as he was drying his hands exactly two minutes and forty-three seconds later—but who was counting? "Come here."

Shiro stood and walked to meet him halfway.

"Say it again."

"I was thinking about how much I care about you," he whispered the words. Saying them any louder might have broken whatever was in the air between them.

Adam stepped closer to him and eyed him from head to toe. "Again?" This time his smile was less hopeful and more wanting.

"I care about you," Shiro was happy to repeat it.

"You're wearing my cloak." Adam ran his hand across the front of it and rested it on Shiro's shoulder.

"It was warmer than mine," Shiro smiled. He wanted the space between him and Adam to disappear completely.

Adam made no attempt to hide his wandering gaze as it traced its way up Shiro's chest and onto his face. "It suits you."

Shiro took a half step forward, forcing Adam's elbow to bend between them as the distance halved. "I should give you mine." It was his turn to let his hands make their way into Adam, one on his shoulder, the other on his waist. They were pulling each other in with their touch. He couldn't take his hands off Adam if he wanted to—he did not want to.

"Hmm, I would like that." With only a mere half foot between them, it was obvious that Adam's gaze was locked firmly on Shiro's lips.

It was only a matter of who was going to move first. Shiro was reminded of an old adage of his: patience yields focus. _Screw patience_. He was done being patient. His hand on Adam's shoulder slid up to cup his neck instead, his fingers tangling in the soft brown curls. His other hand splayed itself across the flat of Adam's back, giving him all the leverage necessary to pull him the rest of the way in. Adam's arms found themselves looped around Shiro's neck.

It was one quick glance then, a check to make sure Adam was okay with this—he was, his eyes were already closed and his lips slightly parted in anticipation—and then Shiro closed the two inch gap.

The world stopped spinning. There was nothing but the gentle press of lips meeting for what would be the first of many times to come. They moved naturally together, their heads angling to stop their noses from bumping. And their hands, pulling and sliding and shifting to further close the nonexistent gap between them. Adam's hands found their way to Shiro's shoulders as he eased the cloak off of him and let it pool on the floor. The loss of that layer allowed another fraction of an inch of space to disappear.

It was electrifying; a warm jolt of electricity from his lips to his heart and then from his heart to everywhere else. He could sworn something inside him burst wide open; he almost wanted to pull away to make sure his heart hadn't escaped his body. But he didn't, he merely pulled Adam closer and held him tighter.

Even when his skin tingled and fire swept through his veins; even as he saw colors that certainly could not exist. He held tight to the one thing he would never let go of.

And when they finally parted—both at the same time, both taking deep breaths of fresh air—all he could do was grin. "What was that?"

"That was magic."

Magic was not one singular thing. There was magic in everything. There was magic in sunrise and in dew drops on flowers, in music and in a baby's first breath. In the good of nature and in the bad and especially in every shade of gray that fell in between. Life was its own form of magic. And so was love.

There were whispered tales about the power of love. Everyone had heard stories of a mother's love saving her child from certain doom, of two lovers razing the world to be together. Of true love's kiss breaking a curse. And every story is built on a grain of truth.

Shiro buried his head against Adam's shoulder and laughed, and if the tears leaking from his eyes were from anything more than that laughter, neither of them said anything about it. "That...gods, Adam. Do you feel it?"

"Takashi. _Love_ , you're glowing," Adam rested a hand on Shiro's cheek. They had both felt the curse breaking like a twig underfoot. Magic had rushed to fill the hollow space that had been waiting for it. And Adam had called him love.

"I love you," Shiro didn't have to think twice about saying it, his heart was singing it of its own accord.

"And I love you too, that wouldn't have worked if I hadn't," Adam kissed the corner of his mouth.

"Did you know that would work?"

"Takashi, that was rare magic," Adam strokes his cheek with the pad of his thumb. "That's once in a lifetime stuff. True love's kiss? Gods that only works if they're both madly in love."

Adam was madly in love with him! "I have that covered," Shiro brought one of Adam's hands to rest over his still hammering heart.

"We both do," Adam's smile was so soft Shiro about melted at the sight of it.

"I hate to be the one to break this off, but I think our dinner is ready." The smell of stew was heavy in the air.

"That is unfortunate," Adam sighed and grabbed ahold of Shiro's hand. "Hope you don't need two of these to eat, this one is mine now."

Shiro didn't complain as they worked their way around eating dinner with only one free hand. With the other helping, it went smoothly enough. It was the best meal he had ever tasted in his life.

They went the rest of the night without moving from the other's side. They only separated briefly when it was time to get ready for bed.

They laid face to face on the bed, the same quilt that had been wrapped around Shiro's shoulders a year prior tucked tightly around them to keep in the warmth. Shiro took the opportunity to gently trace his fingertips over the places of Adam's face, committing each and every square inch to memory.

They stayed up late into the night, just touching and kissing and whispering softly.

With the morning came the sun shining brightly through a lull in the storm. And for once Shiro's heart was calm in his chest.

He had been wrong the first time he saw Adam; he had gotten out with both his heart and soul intact, he'd even managed to find their perfect match in the process.

**Author's Note:**

> I'll admit that this is probably not my best work, but I had fun writing it and I hope you enjoyed reading it! This ended up being over twice as long as I intended it to be.
> 
> Find me on tumblr at transguykeith


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